


moves through moonbeams slowly

by worry



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Trans Character, Graveyard Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, trans character written by a trans person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: He feels his face heat up, entirely warm. They’re still holding hands. “If I didn’t know better, Robert, I’d think that this isn’t about cryptids. I’d think you were trying to make advances on me.”“Are you uncomfortable with that?”(Robert and Damien talk in the graveyard. And then they don't.)





	moves through moonbeams slowly

**Author's Note:**

> I got super tired of all the weird fanfiction where Robert is overly violent/agressive/""""dubcon""" during sex (which... where are you getting that from, honestly) so I wrote this, showing him being super careful and good with Damien but still being... well. Robert.
> 
> Semi spoilers from Damien's route. The vamp movie is a reference to his second date, as is the graveyard thing in general.

“Robert,” he says, lets his lips curl---from surprise to discomfort to purity. “What are you doing out here on this lovely evening?”

 

Robert grunts. He watches Damien’s face move. He - _mimicks_ the expressions, down to the bone, down to the lip-bite Damien had accomplished. It strips the air of its skin, the graveyard of its moon, Damien of his cloak, Damien of his everything, Robert of his everything. A simple bite of the lip, and _blood._

 

“Hunting cryptids.”

 

“I see.”

 

“And what are _you_ doing?”

 

Damien licks his lips. It’s not on purpose. It elicits something from Robert, though; animalistic grunt, this time, something _deep._ Deeper and deeper, _oh._ “Simply enjoying the night.”

 

“You’re so mysterious,” Robert laughs; the expression is real, true. He doesn’t seem to notice the genuinity of it, himself, but Damien can tell by the way his lips tremble, the curl in them. It’s always the lips. “You actually like hanging out in graveyards?”

 

“It’s actually quite calming, if you think about it. And I admire your great passion for… cryptid hunting, especially since graveyards seem to cause you discomfort. Passion is a very good trait to have, you know.”

 

“They don’t cause me discomfort, Damien.”

 

“Oh, apologies. I just assumed…”

 

“But thanks,” he interrupts. “And yeah, I agree. Passion is good.”

 

Damien raises an eyebrow. “I’m glad we agree.”

 

Silence for a few minutes; Damien stares into his eyes, then at the moon behind them, then back at Robert, who looks - softer, gentler - than his usual exterior. _Soft,_ no longer seeming clandestine. He looks like something different in this light, looks hopeful.

 

“You ever been cryptid hunting?” he asks, finally. “It’s fun.”

 

“No, I…” _a smile on Robert’s face, this is something pure_ “...can’t say that I have. What, exactly, does one do on a cryptid hunt?”

 

It grows bigger, the smile, but now it has _teeth._ “I can show you.”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

Robert grabs his hand suddenly, puts his own to his chest. Dramatic. “First you gotta be the cryptid, you know? You have to think like one.”

 

“How do I do that?”

 

“Well, you’re standing in a graveyard, in the middle of the night, so you’re doing pretty well already.”

 

Damien feels his face flush. “Anything else I must do?”

 

“ _Then_ you have to get existential. Ask yourself, still as the cryptid, ‘why am I alive? Why do I exist? And why do I hide? _Where_ do I hide? Where would a monster like me hide?’ Where, Damien?”

 

“Well, um… it has to depend on the type of cryptid we’re trying to discover. Right?”

 

Robert winks. _Oh,_ he winks. Oh. “Now you’re thinkin’ like a _true_ cryptid hunter. What cryptid do you have in mind?”

 

Damien stops for a moment, thinks about it. “Are… vampires… cryptids? I just watched a movie at the cinema about them. It was… quite interesting.”

 

“The terribly written one laden with unnecessary nudity?”

 

“I suppose you could call it that, yes.”

 

“Did you actually like that movie?”

 

He sighs. “Not really.”

 

“Good.” Robert gives his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, they can be considered cryptids. You’re so good at this. A real natural.”

 

“You’re incredibly flattering.”

 

“Where do you think vampires would hide?”

 

“I’m not sure.”

 

“Think with that pretty mind of yours.”

 

“Pretty mind?” Damien asks, shock. Overwhelming, pure _shock._ Pure like the expressions on ther faces.

 

“Yeah, obviously.”

 

He feels his face heat up, entirely warm. They’re still holding hands. “If I didn’t know better, Robert, I’d think that this isn’t about cryptids. I’d think you were trying to make advances on me.”

 

“Are you uncomfortable with that?”

 

“I like that you’re telling me about your interests,” says Damien. “I find that quite attractive, even though I admittedly do not understand what you’re speaking of. I will one day.”

 

Robert frowns. “Is that… a no, or…”

 

Now Damien smiles, and then they’re both smiling, and then the night is perfect, _perfect._ Made of dreams. “I’m definitely not uncomfortable with it.”

 

“Good. So tell me more about the Victorian era. How were the Victorians about public displays of affection?”

 

“It was generally frowned upon. Tell me more about cryptid hunting. If you find one, what do you do?”

 

Robert stops. He’s silent for a moment. “I’m not actually sure. Probably leave it alone, then go home and question life and your own sanity. Didn’t the Victorians have a thing for flowers? Hidden meanings and messages and all that?”

 

He seems genuinely interested; it’s not the kind of fake interest that you find when someone just wants to fuck you and discard you. It’s not. He - he _cares._

 

“It’s a lot more complex than you say, but yes, they certainly did. What got you interested in cryptids?”

 

“Um… pass.” He looks full of sonder for a moment, and then it fades, and the beauty restores, the graceful comes back. “What got you interested in the Victorian era?”

 

“It started when I was young... I spent months researching the Victorians. It quickly became a very special interest to me.”

 

“That’s actually really cool.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Like I said, passion is a good thing to have. It’s… distracting. And enriching, I’d guess.”

 

Damien stares at him. “You’d guess?”

 

“I’m not… at a place where I can talk openly about myself, Damien. Not yet. I’m sorry.”

 

“I understand.” He pauses. “Do you still… want me, then?”

 

“Do you want me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then yeah, Damien,” he says, and there’s something so oddly gentle about the way he says Damien’s name this time. “Of course.”

 

Robert lets go of him, cups his face with both hands - it’s perfect, it genuinely is _perfect,_ a dream under the moonlight.

 

And then they’re kissing. It’s. It’s. It’s. There’s no way to describe the feeling of new hope in Damien’s chest, the beautiful overflow in his entire body, everything composing him. Limbs and tissues and - lips. **Oh.** Like a new home.

 

He pulls away, takes everything in. He _wants_ Robert.“Your house seems very far away right now.”

 

Robert runs a hand through his hair. “Actually,” he says, “I was thinking that… since you love graveyards _so_ much… that we could… that I could take you here, right now, but if you want to go home that’s okay, too. I don’t care.”

 

He feels something stir, right in his stomach, at _take you here, right now. Right now. O h._

 

“I’d, um, oh. That would certainly be different.”

 

“You’re okay with that, then?”

 

“Yes,” Damien breathes, and he’s getting desperate, he’d do anything for Robert, _anything,_ the fluttering starting inside of him and grabbing on _tight, tight._ He wants this. He has never wanted anything like he wants this _._ “Please, just… _yes._ But where—”

 

Robert grabs his hips, hungry. There’s a tree behind them, apparently; he’s pressed into its bark, softly, softly. and the slight pressure makes him overflow even more, even _more._ They’re kissing again, their bodies moving like an unnatural force, melting together every part of them.

 

One of his hands slides over to the center of Damien, the very center. “You want this?”

 

“Yes, just - quickly. Do something.”

 

“Okay,” Robert says, a low whisper. “I just want to make sure you’re ready. I’ll give you everything you want. I can tell you’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?”

 

“Who h...hasn’t? You’re… quite honestly, beautiful.”

 

Robert looks down, suddenly, like no one has ever called him beau—

 

He’s fumbling at Damien’s belt buckle. It’s messy. He looks so _good_ like this—

 

— _oh_ —

 

Robert’s hand is slowly lowering, and then he’s slowly working, _slowly, s l o w l y._ It’s like a tease, like cruelty. He wants everything. He _wants._ Damien has never felt this kind of desperate.

 

The pace is slow, but Robert’s working on his neck, _beautiful, filling feeling_ —

 

a bite. Damien moans, and he thinks for a moment: _they’re listening, you know. They want this for you. They stay beneath the ground, just waiting for spark._

 

“Please,” he manages. “Stop t...teasing.”

 

“You’re so worked up. It’s actually kinda cute, you know? Every time I see you I think about this.”

 

“If you truly think it’s cute, you’d go faster for me. You spoke of giving me everything I want…”

 

“Oh, yeah…” he trails off, weak. “That. Ah. Sorry. Got carried away.”

 

“No apology n...needed. It was actually… very hot.”

 

“So what _do_ you want, then? What goes on in your head when you think of me, hm? You ever get off to the thought of me?”

 

Robert obeys, turns himself faster, ticking ticking the clock. The air is getting colder, biting at Damien’s skin. “I have… a few times.”

 

“And?”

 

He breathes out. “Robert, honestly, I can’t… think… right now. I trust you.”

 

“That’s… thanks. I’m glad to hear that. Would you…” he sighs, the clock ticks further, “trust me if I wasn’t literally fucking you in a graveyard?”

 

“Of course.”

 

There’s something so broken about Robert; looking at him feels like peering down at shattered glass, something sick in his posture. And Damien wants to - fix it, wrap something around the wounds, make it all better with touch. He trusts, so much. Robert knows his secret, knows about his real life, and doesn’t mind. He trusts. He can hear a clock ticking in his mind. Robert, their bodies, a ready explosion. And he trusts.

 

“You’re being so good,” Robert whispers. “I’ve thought about this a billion times, but I never thought I’d actually get to see you like this. And I could listen to your voice all day, but right now you’re talking too much, in my opinion. I wanna hear you say my name, over and over, until you forget about everything in the world that isn’t me. Do you think I can do that to you?”

 

Damien pushes himself upward, further into Robert. “I think you’re the one talking too much.”

 

Robert stops. “Don’t do that,” he whispers. “Don’t do anything,” and then he’s kneeling, and then he’s running his mouth over inner thighs, sensitive skin, everything sweet and beautiful that has ever existed, everything stripping Damien to the bone again. It’s getting colder. “This good for you?”

 

“Robert...”

 

“There it is. Good boy. Always wondered what it’d be like to fuck in a place as weird as this. I keep saying that, I know, but I want you to know how much I want you. How precious you look. I’ll make everything so good for you.”

 

“Then hurry up,” Damien says. It’s nearly a scream, too loud. Someone could catch them here. Someone could find them like this.

 

The thought of that shouldn’t be so scintillating.

 

“Okay, okay.”

 

The feeling of Robert’s mouth on him, _finally,_ is like… poetry, every word inside of him melting into one name, the rest of the world melting into one name, something beautiful rising from the ashes and molten everything to become new again. It’s freezing, now. It’s getting darker.

 

Robert truly is the only thing in the world that matters.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think :3 thanks


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